Dear dear Helen, Lilian, Archie, Sol and David,
Hello! Have you ANY idea how lovely it is to find the internets haven’t forgotten you as you so richly deserve to be forgotten? Any idea at all? I think I shall cry real pearls and sneeze opals. It’s that lovely. And then we shall all have tea.
Anyway. This year’s novel is a fantasy [Oh, so very true, in so many ways - Ed (you didn't think you'd get her back without me too, did you?)] about, well, stuff. Politics, ambition, sibling rivalry, loveless marriages of state, nations on the brink of war, assassination attempts, journeys across two continents and woolly mammoths [In a word, and I use this word judiciously: Overambitious].
Progress on novel so far: Me tearing house apart looking for marvellous, fabulous, glowingly wonderful notes I made last year, listing really cool names for all the characters, complete with etymologies. Tolkien would have been so proud. Have I found the notes? Have I buggery. Am I saying ‘Never mind!’ and yomping cheerfully onwards? Am I buggery.
Also, my NaNoWriMo word counter isn’t updating properly.
It’s day 3 and I’ve lost the will to live. Go me.